The Humans of Thornflek are, mostly, good-natured, tolerable and decent customers but the affable Halflings, in their ‘quarter’ of the town, make everyone feel welcome.
The barrel-chested Bunkum, smooths down his bushy red beard and burps, before raising his slopping tankard.
“It was a great shame that young Banaal could only stay with us for a single night. I’d’ve liked to hear more of his fantastical journey and, more importantly, of what’s happening back home, under Mount Verloren.”
The equally tipsy, Dwarven priest; Vinculum raises his half-full tankard in response.
“Considering his youth, I was impressed by his level of enlightenment. He’s barely half my age but his divine connection to Moradin already far outstrips my own.”
Bunkum, the defacto leader of Thornflek’s small Dwarven enclave, leans forward conspiratorially and whispers.
“From what I understand, they’ll need to be. War is definitely coming and the enemy won’t be fragile Humans or Elves.”
The Dwarven cleric sags a little on his stool, as he clunks his, now emptied, tankard down.
“But what can a single war-priest of Moradin, no matter how gifted, do against the legion of the damned?”
“But what can a single war-priest of Moradin, no matter how gifted, do against the legion of the damned?”
ReplyDeletechallenge accepted, hold my beer.....